


this is an apology.

by dylaesthetics



Series: thoughts the other doesn't hear. [pov change]. [2]
Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Allison's Death, Angst, Between 3b and 4, Falling In Love, Jealousy, Mexico, Mutual Pining, One Shot, Stiles' POV, Stydia
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-13
Updated: 2020-09-13
Packaged: 2021-03-06 22:28:35
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,534
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26446360
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dylaesthetics/pseuds/dylaesthetics
Summary: Had he said too much? Lydia was avoiding Stiles’ gaze and instead paid a little too much attention to the various sizes of wrenches in Stiles’ incomplete tool box.That is, until Kira feverishly grabbed her hand and squealed in excitement. “Guys, I think I might love Scott.”In this very moment, however, with Lydia’s gaze finally meeting his and her eyes emitting more adoration than he’d seen before, Stiles couldn’t care less about Kira’s realization. Because he himself found that he still loved the owner of the green eyes boring into his goldens. Because he understood that however Lydia was looking at him, the gaze captured more than friendship. Because there really was a chance that after all this time, Lydia finally returned his feelings but there was nothing Stiles could do about it.Lydia had caught up too late.
Relationships: Lydia Martin/Stiles Stilinski, Stiles Stilinski/Malia Tate
Series: thoughts the other doesn't hear. [pov change]. [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1922386
Kudos: 23





	this is an apology.

**Author's Note:**

> this is a stiles' pov on allison's death. lydia's pov can be found in the series 'thoughts the other doesn't hear'.

In the quiet of Yukimura’s residence, with a once scorching cup of chamomile tea now ice-cold balanced between his thighs, Stiles cried. Then sipped the cold drink. Cried some more. Gave up on the tea altogether and watered a nearby plant with the remains in the cup. Cried enough to fill the now empty cup.

Directly or not, he had killed Allison. His friend. Lydia’s best friend. Scott’s first love. The love of Isaac’s life. Argent’s only child. He had stolen Allison’s future. Her breath. Her life. And there was no way he could turn back time and fix it.

Kira and her family had left the room at the sight of his first tears. They didn’t know her. Allison had only been a snippet of Kira’s life here in Beacon Hills. Already a distant memory. Yet Kira’s heart still ached and her body trembled because they were both part of the pack, united as a whole.

Stiles had already figured out what’s going to happen between them after they’ve dealt with the nogitsune. Scott, Lydia, Isaac, Kira and Stiles – presuming he makes it out alive-, will fall apart. They won’t wave at each other in the hallways, each battling their own mental wars, instead, gaze at one another’s backs of the head’s behind them in class. Any potential howls or screams won’t be heard from afar.

The only good thing seemed to be Stiles dying, too. With every breath, the pain found new ways to capture his body, each muscle, each drop of blood. Everything.

* * *

When Kira brought Stiles inside Deaton’s clinic, he almost crumbled to the ground. The sight of Lydia and Scott was simply too much to handle. He couldn’t utter more than a sentence without breaking into tears.

When Lydia carried Stiles to the car, Stiles had lost his ability to move altogether. The second he sat down, Lydia’s fingers intertwined with his as if she was trying to take his pain like Scott. Or perhaps she wished some of her pain were to be taken from _her_. Either way, he didn’t need a supernatural hearing to know both their hearts were shattering in their chests.

When Lydia continued holding Stiles after they parked by the school, Stiles had already grown used to her arms around his side.

When Stiles held Kira’s sword to his stomach, he couldn’t bear Lydia’s tears and protests. But then Stiles understood and quickly enough Lydia believed the illusion, too, and stayed pressed against his side again until the demon was trapped.

When Aiden fell to the ground, choking on his own blood, Stiles returned the favour. He held _her_.

* * *

Returning to school after losing Allison and Aiden did not come easy to the pack. Like Stiles had predicted, nobody spoke to one another.

On the first day back, a week after Allison’s funeral, Stiles spotted Scott, Kira and Lydia in the hallways and classes more times than he could count, yet the glances thrown at one another were lifeless. Not the usual smiles and the warm hellos, and definitely not the half embraces and shoulder brushes.

By the time Stiles entered his last class of the day, ten minutes late, he had finally summoned the courage to greet Lydia, who had taken the seat beside him at the front of English class on the first day of Junior year.

However, after apologizing to their new teacher, Stiles looked at Lydia’s desk and instead of the strawberry blonde locks, he spotted another girl’s.

Malia’s. The werecoyote they’d rescued from her dad’s traps what felt like a lifetime ago. The girl he kissed in the basement at Eichen’s. In Lydia’s seat now, with a highlighter in her mouth and different kinds of stationary scrambled across her desk.

Confused, he shot a quick glance around the class until he noticed Lydia at the back of the class, next to Jared, her own gaze stubbornly focused on the notebook in front of her as she pretended to be writing down notes while the teacher wasn’t even speaking. Even from across the room, Stiles caught her eyes filling with liquid.

“Mr Stilinski, if only you could sit down.”

“Sorry,” he muttered, throwing his backpack heavily on the ground and sitting on the hard chair.

Only after a minute of rummaging through his bag, Stiles realized he’d forgotten the pen in his locker. As the teacher turned his back to the class to write down the title of the next book they’re reading, Stiles raised his arm but was quickly stopped by another.

“Here.” Malia put his hand down and placed a red pen in his palm. “I have too many of them.”

“Thanks.”

Malia continued messing up her desk then like nothing had happened, while Stiles spent the rest of the lesson glancing her way and... Smiling.

Smiling for what felt like the first time in months. And perhaps it indeed was.

* * *

Avoiding Lydia and essentially _trying_ to approach her was the hardest in the mornings. Their lockers were just a few apart and Stiles couldn’t help noticing how Lydia began to arrive at the school later than usual just so they wouldn’t have to come across each other. At the end of class, she stayed behind to let him and Malia leave unbothered.

However, this morning, Lydia parked her car next to Stiles’ Jeep and walked inside the school a few feet behind Stiles. Only when Stiles reached the lockers, he fully realized that Lydia was, in fact, attempting to talk to him.

She stood so close with her locker door open he could hear her heavy breath even in the noisy hallway. At the corner of his eyes, Stiles saw her mouth open and close but just as he was to finally face her, a pair of arms embraced him from behind.

“Good morning, Malia.” Stiles squeaked out as he shut his locker hard and turned around to his girlfriend, who then greeted him with a short kiss while he heard another locker close just as heavily behind him and heels clicking against the floor, away from the pair.

“It’s not a good morning. We have double Algebra. _Double!_ I don’t even understand a single Algebra.” While Malia complained, Stiles looked behind his shoulders, watching Lydia rush inside the girl’s bathroom with her makeup bag in her hand.

And for the rest of the day, Stiles missed her in every class.

* * *

The following day, Lydia seemed to have disappeared. No strawberry blonde locks in class, no pair of green eyes by the lockers. Until their English class before the lunch break, Stiles had thought she’d skipped school altogether.

But there she was, already settled down at the back with an unreadable face when Stiles entered the room with an arm around Malia’s shoulders. Their eyes met momentarily and, guiltily, Stiles let his arm fall down to his side. Lydia blinked and quickly turned her gaze to the windows with a small smile creeping onto her lips.

Stiles spent a moment too long staring at her smile until Malia snipped her fingers in his face and he sat down in his seat. While taking his notebook out of his backpack, a piece of torn paper fell flat on the ground. He picked it up, studying its contents curiously.

It was a drawing of Prada – Lydia’s dog – as a designer bag Stiles had drawn during one of their first English classes in Junior year and forgotten to pass to Lydia before the bell rang.

Grinning uncontrollably as Stiles remembered the conversation that inspired his drawing, he turned to pass the note to Lydia. That is until he remembered that they were no longer talking and she no longer sat beside him.

It was stupid, really. Lydia, Scott... They were his best friends, despite the past month, despite their grief. And perhaps the suffering itself meant they should help each other. Remember how to be friends again.

For the rest of the class, Stiles clutched onto the note, ignoring everything else, even Malia, who kept stealing his yellow highlighter until she eventually kept it on her desk. He’d talk to Lydia. _Really_ talk to her. Perhaps invite her to his house. But first, he had to convince her to look his way. So when the bell rang, Stiles touched Malia’s shoulder lightly.

“I’ll see you at lunch. Give me a minute,” he said coolly, then watched as Malia shrugged and left the room, along with everyone else. Everyone but Lydia.

Anxiously, Stiles felt himself tapping fingers against his desk and eyes focused on the blackboard in front of him. Because he wasn’t looking at Lydia, he hadn’t a clue whether she’d noticed their current situation just yet.

After a minute of opening and closing his mouth, Stiles finally said, more confidently than he imagined: “You know, it’s easier to ignore someone if you don’t make it so obvious.”

Lydia gasped quietly, her breath turning heavy. “That’s not fair. You ignored me first.”

Stiles hissed, tapping his fingers more quickly now.

“Because I hurt you,” he whispered quietly enough so that Lydia couldn’t hear him.

“I didn’t mean to ignore you. It’s just really hard to look at you, knowing what I did to you,” he said louder.

“Not _you_.”

At Lydia’s whisper, Stiles stopped the tapping instantly. To avoid crying, he shut his eyes for several moments.

Lydia had no idea what having the nogitsune possessing Stiles felt like. Being aware of _everything_ , hurting his loved ones, _killing_ them...

“Maybe I didn’t _want_ to do it but I was _there_ , every time _he_ hurt all of you. My body did those things. With these hands, he tried to kill Scott.” Stiles waved his hands around in the air desperately.

Lydia turned quiet then. Perhaps he’d said too much. Perhaps she thought he was the monster now. An abuser. A _killer_.

“I just want to be normal again.” Stiles breathed out, voice thick of misery. “Talk to you guys.”

It was Lydia’s turn to hiss now. “That’s where you’re wrong, Stiles. We’ll never be normal. We never _were_ normal. We know too much to ever be.”

After over a year of being introduced to the world of supernatural and returning the power to the Nemeton, Stiles agreed with Lydia. They were responsible. They deserved to be held accountable. Even when they manage to save a life, it’s more of a duty than a favour. Half of the supernatural disturbances happening in Beacon Hills were _their_ fault.

“OK, not normal then,” Stiles uttered nervously, scratching the back of his head. “But is getting back to being friends an option anymore?”

“I’m sure Scott would appreciate that.” Lydia scoffed.

“But I’m not asking Scott. I’m asking you.”

“You see, you’re not actually. You’re facing a blackboard 20 feet away from me and you haven’t looked at me in a month.” her voice sounded more normal now, less aggressive.

Instantly, Stiles stood up from his chair, rushed to the desk in front of Lydia’s and turned it around before sitting on it, boring into her eyes that were focused on anything but him. The greens he missed seeing so close. Even though Stiles didn’t want to admit it to himself, just seeing her face a foot away made his heartbeat jump and eyelids flutter in admiration.

“Is this better?” he grinned, happy to see Lydia look just as flustered. Yet he didn’t question her stare.

“I..” finally, Lydia locked her eyes with Stiles’, a hint of anticipation flashing in them for a second, returning the admiration.

Probably because they hadn’t talked in so long and she’d missed him but Lydia appeared to be looking at him differently. Much fonder, lighter but just as bittersweet. Like she had a heart-wrenching secret.

Stiles rested his chin on his palms, watching her expression turn from baffled to this new kind of soothing. He never thought she looked more beautiful, with the sun from the window lighting up her irises.

“I just want to say how sorry I am.” he shut his eyes momentarily, placing his hand on Lydia’s desk, simultaneously hoping she’d grab his hand and that she wouldn’t. Because he can’t, not anymore.

Liking Lydia was his past, it had to be. He couldn’t be with another girl while his heart still ached for someone else. He couldn’t hurt Malia. He couldn’t go back to loving someone who didn’t return the feeling.

“For what?” Lydia whispered, fingers brushing against his, so faintly it could’ve been by accident. He opened his eyes again, attempting to look at her without exposing his feelings this time.

“The list is long.” Stiles half-smiled. “The lunch break probably isn’t enough time to get into the first half. Perhaps we could do it another time? After school, my place?”

Lydia’s eyes were moving from one side to the other swiftly but her mouth formed the word _fine_.

She then rose from her seat quickly, leaving Stiles in the class alone. A couple of short breaths later, he left, too, with the memory of Lydia’s eyes stuck in his mind like a movie scene.

* * *

Truth be told, Stiles had forgotten he’d invited Malia over to his house for studying after school. At the same time Lydia was to come over.

About half an hour into their Math session, Malia shut her book heavily and threw it across the room, then lied on her back with arms behind her head.

“Hey, we’re not even halfway through your homework,” Stiles complained, chewing on a pen.

Malia groaned. “What’s the point of Math? When am I _ever_ going to use it?”

“For tipping at restaurants.”

Malia gave him a deadly stare that Stiles simply laughed at. She then moved over to Stiles with a mischievous smile and kissed him briefly, as in asking for permission.

Stiles leaned back, putting his pointer finger on Malia’s lips. “Not _now_.”

“Come on, Stiles. That’s enough homework.” she protested.

“Malia, you can’t afford to fail another test. This is why I’m trying to help.”

“No more studying.” Malia was more determined this time, shutting Stiles’ books and moving onto his lap, pressing against his chest as she leaned down to kiss him.

Stiles kissed her back this time. Slowly at first, then getting more heated by the second as images of a pair of green eyes flashed in his mind. Only moments later had he realized Malia did _not_ have those eyes.

He pushed Malia back mildly, breath falling heavier. “Not now. I’m serious. Lydia is coming over any second.”

Malia’s stare turned baffled. “Lydia? Are you friends again?”

“I’m trying to be.” Stiles nervously picked at his fingernails. “That’s why she’s coming.”

He _hoped_ they could be friends again. He _hoped_ that her stare earlier in the class meant _something._ He hoped.

Stiles hadn't even thought of what to tell Lydia, how to convince her to go back to how they were, whether for the comfort of old friends or to simply be able to breathe again. He missed Lydia. He missed her kindness and he missed her laughter. He missed the feeling of hopefulness he found in every room she was in. He missed their morning hellos by the lockers and the smirks at each other in class. He missed her strawberry blonde locks flying in the wind and her eyes glisten even in the dark. He missed how smart she was and how the two of them were coming up with plans for the pack. He missed everything about her and he hoped she missed him the same.

“What is it with you and her?” Malia suddenly asked, snapping Stiles back to reality

“What do you mean?”

“You get all _weird_ when you’re talking about her. What happened between you?”

“ _Nothing_ happened.” Stiles sighed out and to his disappointment, his words were true.

Lydia _had_ kissed him months ago but it was out of support. She knew that the _one_ thing that could throw him off enough to deal with his panic attack would be something as unimaginable as a kiss from the only girl Stiles had ever loved. Lydia knew perfectly well how Stiles felt about her despite never speaking of it other than his confession at the Sophomore winter formal and she used it to help him. But it was nothing to her. Just another kiss she'd never look back at, a moment she'd probably forgotten by now. And the kiss itself, even if it had given some hope to Stiles for a lingering moment, was nothing more than only a kiss.

Then years and years of pining, desperately hoping that one day, _one day_ , Lydia could return his feelings had ended just like that. With Malia sitting down in Lydia’s seat on his first day back. And as much as he didn't want to think of Malia as her replacement, he wouldn't be trying to get over Lydia if it weren't for Malia.

“What? Did you _like_ her?”

Frankly, Stiles had lost his ability to speak now. He feared that however he reacted, he _would_ have to tell Malia. So he simply placed his chin on his palm, studying the cover of the Math book in front of them. 

“Do you _still_ like her?” Malia’s voice turned tiny and the arm she'd kept on his back fell down to the bed. 

Did he? Was all this overthinking a sign that he still had feelings for her? Is it really true that you can never get rid of the love you had for the first person you ever loved?

“No.” Stiles wasn't certain if he'd told the truth when he finally turned to meet Malia’s eyes. “No, I don't. I used to, though. I used to be in love with her.” 

Malia’s eyelids fluttered anxiously. “You hesitated.”

“I just hadn't thought about it in a while.” Stiles was honest this time.

Malia shrugged, appearing more jittery than Stiles had ever seen her. “Did she like you back?”

The image of her gaze just hours ago flashed before Stiles’ own eyes. The momentary fondness. Had it been friendly or... More?

“I don't think so.” he decided to drown the despairing glint of hope. 

“You don't think so,” Malia repeated frustratingly. “What if she did? What if she still does?”

If Lydia were to walk into his room right now and tell him that she has somehow, sometime, somewhere fallen in love with him, he wouldn't believe it for a second. And rightfully so because Lydia is the furthest from the kind of person to ever even reveal any emotion to another human.

“As unlikely as it would be, it wouldn't change anything between you and me,” Stiles promised, moving his hand on top of his.

His phone rang them, notifying him of a text message. A beep he'd set for Lydia specifically and having heard it for the first time in a month came reassuring to Stiles.

“She's here. Perhaps you should go.”

Malia hesitated. “If that's what you want. I won't bother you.”

“It's not like that, please.” Stiles worried now. “I simply want to talk to her alone. We need to figure this out. Our pack.”

Malia’s eyes turned lighter in excitement. She'd reveal such a reaction whenever Stiles mentioned the pack.

“Must be nice to be in a pack,” she revealed a sad smile. “I need to learn a lot about shifting. And control on the full moon. If things _do_ get back to normal for you guys, could you..?”

“Ask Scott to make you part of the pack? Of course.” Stiles finished her sentence.

“Thank you.” Malia leaned in for a cheek kiss of gratitude.

Stiles walked Malia down the stairs to the entrance door, stopping a few feet away, anxious to see Lydia on the other side of it. But Malia opened the door feverishly, running into the figure sitting down on the porch, knocking Lydia’s phone out of her hands.

“Watch where you’re sitting!” Malia growled at Lydia, exposing her blue eyes. She waved goodbyes to Stiles awkwardly before sprinting down the street.

“Sorry, she’s... Still trying to get accustomed to being a human.” Stiles joked, opening the door wide and waiting for Lydia to follow him in.

Lydia appeared as anxious as ever, picking at her nails as they slowly walked up the stairs to Stiles’ room.

“So, you and Malia?”

That caught Stiles off guard. He didn’t know if he was prepared to talk to Lydia about his girlfriend.

“Yeah.” he settled for a nod.

“How did that happen?”

Stiles stayed quiet then. How _did_ it happen? Were they just lonely at Eichen’s? Did they simply need someone and each other was the first choice around?

 _No_ , Stiles thought as they entered his daylight illuminated room. 

“We were both going through a lot and ended up realizing it’s easier to go through a lot together, I suppose. I don’t go nuts on the night of the full moon but she became a sort of an anchor to me when it comes to other things. And the other way around.” Stiles explained as he flumped down on his chair and Lydia – on his bed.

It was unusual, really, being so far away from each other. Whether the silent month or the fact that Stiles was taken now was to blame, the distance felt _wrong_.

Lydia pinched her lips, looking away from Stiles as she tried to hide a couple of tears forming in her eyes. The sight of Lydia hurting sent a wave of ache through Stiles’ body.

Stiles cleared his throat, trying to conceal his own emotions. “Back to the reason you’re here, I suppose.” Lydia’s eyes turned wide. “I’m going to start with-”

“I don’t want you to apologize.” Lydia interrupted Stiles at once.

“I.. What?” his mouth formed an _o_ shape.

Lydia looked away nervously, chewing on the inside of her cheek. She studied the messy covers on Stiles’ bed, then stared at her feet uncomfortably. Stiles _really_ hoped she hadn’t got the wrong idea.

“In my opinion, the only thing you’ve done wrong is ignoring the pack,” Lydia spoke confidently. “Two of them have left town, you know, Isaac and Ethan. No one knows where Derek is. Scott, Kira, you and I have barely spoken a word to each other until today. We’ve fallen apart. And I personally don’t think you need to even apologize for that because you’re not alone in this – we _all_ are ignoring each other because we’re so afraid of..” Lydia couldn’t finish but Stiles understood perfectly that she was about to say _‘afraid of burying someone again’_.

“So why _did_ you come?” Stiles’ voice was small as he examined the lines on his palms.

“Because you’re my _friend._ ” Lydia didn’t hesitate. “And I prefer to be on good terms with my friends.”

“Does that mean we should talk to the others? Scott? Kira?” Stiles played with his fingers and felt Lydia’s stare on them.

“Immediately.” She swallowed loudly. “I get that you’ve found someone else but the rest of us - we need each other.”

Did she really assume that Stiles replaced the pack with Malia? 

“You’ve still got me, Lyds,” Stiles spoke so quietly, it came out as a whisper.

Their eyes met, no - bored into each others'. With the sunlight creeping in and dust dancing around in the air, Lydia looked exactly like she had months ago after kissing Stiles on the locker room floor. Innocent. Surprised. Bewildered. Beautiful.

But then she broke their eye contact.

“Speaking of the pack. I was... I don’t know.” Stiles stuttered, looking away, too. “Malia, Malia’s supernatural. And she’s lonely. And she needs to learn a lot about changing from Scott, I promised her that. Do you think she could join the pack?”

The room turned silent once again. Lydia’s lips formed a thin line. “I’m not the alpha, Stiles. I can’t make that kind of decision.”

Stiles blinked. “Yeah, but I care about _your_ opinion.”

“I suppose a werewolf needs a pack,” Lydia replied through clenched teeth.

“Werecoyote.” Stiles corrected her with a half-smile spread across his face.

Lydia shrugged. “I suppose a _werecoyote_ needs a pack.”

“It’s settled then. We call Kira and Scott. And Malia.” he added, then beginning to grin like a child. “Is Scott gonna throw a pack audition to decide whether to let her join? Imagine that.”

Lydia laughed briefly, filling Stiles’ room with more light. She glanced at her hands, then at Stiles and her eyes filled with affection once again.

When the affection turned to panic, Stiles asked if she’s OK but she simply shrugged it off, changing the conversation to ways they could now convince the rest of the pack to reunite.

And while doing so, Stiles thought back to what Malia had asked him earlier.

_What if she did? What if she still does?_

* * *

With Malia’s hand on his around the stick shift and the laughter of his friends from the backseat, the drive to Mexico didn’t seem to last a day. Even when Malia growled at the drivers that drove slower than the limit, Scott whined about the heat, Lydia complained about how little space the backseat had or Kira decided to bring her sword out and threaten the lives of the mortals in his car, Stiles felt unusually content. He was with his friends, his family, his pack and, honestly, they had never done anything like this so far.

Stiles glanced at Malia happily right after she’d growled at another car he overtook, and Malia’s eyes immediately turned back to their regular colour. She grinned at him guiltily but Stiles placed his hand on top of hers to ensure that it’s OK.

As he looked into the rear mirror to watch the car he’d just overtaken disappearing in distance and the asphalt boiling in the desert heat, Stiles also noticed Lydia’s face tiny in the reflection.

She was rolling her eyes, hurt visible on her face as she momentarily glanced at the stick shift. Stiles felt the sudden need to push Malia’s hand away.

He _had_ to stop thinking about Lydia. Now months after Lydia came over to his house to get back to being friends, Stiles still wondered about the change in the emotions she displayed around him. And he couldn’t forget Malia’s words.

Was there really a chance that Lydia _did_ return his feelings and he hadn’t noticed? 

But, of course, there was nothing he could do about it now.

* * *

“You...You please don’t do that ever again!” Stiles shouted the second they were on the road again, minutes after being chased by yet another supernatural creature they wanted to know nothing about.

“Do what?” Malia shouted back.

“I...I thought you just took off,” he spoke quieter now, yet with just as much worry. “I thought you were running.”

“I _was_ running.”

“No, I mean, like, I thought you were leaving.”

Malia feverishly shook her head. “I wouldn’t leave without you.”

Her words caught him so off-guard, he didn’t even notice Lydia’s eyes darken in the rear mirror. 

“Really?” Stiles asked softly.

“I would never leave without you,” Malia confirmed, then glanced at the girls in the backseat. “Them I would leave.”

This time, however, Stiles was staring into the mirror, eyes focused on Lydia’s shadowy shape. She moved her head stiffly, leaning back from the front seat.

“Yeah, uh... It’s progress.”

For the rest of the ride to the ancient church where Scott and Braeden already were, Stiles said not a single word, instead listening in on the girls’ conversation and thinking back to the one he’d had with Lydia before the sunset and with the Jeep still broken down.

* * *

_“Your girlfriend hates me.”_

_“No, she hates everyone.” Stiles objected through a small wrench in his mouth but the muffled sound didn’t cover the hint of dishonesty in his expression._

_“But she hates me more.”_

_Stiles dropped the wrench, shooting an irritated glance at Lydia. “OK.”_

_“OK what?”_

_Stiles looked around, checking if Malia was anywhere in sight. When he couldn’t spot her, he desperately hoped she wasn't listening in._

_“I told her about how I was..” Stiles ensured he was using the past tense. “About my past feelings for you and she kind of didn’t take it that well. But that’s Malia. She doesn’t fully understand humans just yet.”_

_Stiles stopped working on the Jeep altogether. Lydia, on the other hand, had an unreadable expression on her face that she tried to brush away by blinking repeatedly._

_“Is she.. jealous?” Lydia asked carefully, gazing at Malia in the distance. While Malia remained still, appearing to be smelling the air, Kira slowly started walking into their direction._

_Stiles shrugged. “I suppose I would be, too, in her place. Wouldn’t you?”_

_“I don’t know. I’ve never loved anyone like that.”_

_Lydia was terrible at lying. But why would she lie, if Stiles was painfully aware of her past relationships?_

_Stiles faked the surprise in his voice. “You haven’t? What about Jackson?”_

_“He was... That wasn’t love. I said it but I never loved him.” her smile had disappeared entirely. “I mean, how do you even know when you love someone?” Lydia spoke determinately._

_Stiles dedicated a long and hesitant glance to her, mouth opening and closing._

_The only time he had ever loved someone was Lydia. And telling her how he’d felt while loving her probably wasn’t the most brilliant idea, especially considering his girlfriend was a supernatural hearing distance away._

_As in to save Stiles from further embarrassment, Kira approached the pair by the car._

_“You find comfort in that person. They’re kind of your safe place.” she had, apparently, heard Lydia’s question._

_Lydia opened her mouth to question her but Stiles was prepared to answer the question, too._

_“And you just always want them to be safe and put their safety above your own.” Stiles’ gaze on Lydia’s face was consistent. And he didn’t hate it._

_He thought back to all the times he’d saved Lydia’s life. And each time, he didn’t care if he’d get hurt, he didn’t care if there were other things at stake, he only ever wanted Lydia to be safe. Winter formal. The crow attack during English class. The bear trap Lydia stepped on._

_“And they’re the first person you tell what’s happening in your life to, good or bad.” Kira continued, looking in the distance with eyes full of adoration as she rambled._

_“And you kind of don’t care where or who they end up with, as long as you know they’re content.” Stiles had completely forgotten about the dangerous situation they were in now, stepped away from his beloved jeep. “First love is even crazier. You just know that regardless of other partners or time passed, you will always love that person in one way or another.”_

_Had he said too much? Lydia was avoiding Stiles’ gaze and instead paid a little too much attention to the various sizes of wrenches in Stiles’ incomplete toolbox._

_That is until Kira feverishly grabbed her hand and squealed in excitement. “Guys, I think I might love Scott.”_

_In this very moment, however, with Lydia’s gaze finally meeting his and her eyes emitting more adoration than he’d seen before, Stiles couldn’t care less about Kira’s realization. Because he himself found that he_ still _loved the owner of the green eyes boring into his goldens. Because he understood that however Lydia was looking at him, the gaze captured more than friendship. Because there really was a chance that after all this time, Lydia finally returned his feelings but there was nothing Stiles could do about it._

_Lydia had caught up too late._

_“Great, now that we’ve got that settled!” shrugging off his thoughts, Stiles exclaimed in Kira’s direction but she had already run off to where Malia still stood alone._

_“And you can’t breathe until you’re with them,” Lydia muttered after a moment or two, keeping her eyes locked with Stiles as the sun had nearly disappeared at the horizon behind him. “I... That’s what Allison told me once.”_

_Stiles realized there, in the middle of a desert in Mexico, next to his broken-down Jeep, that until Lydia finally spoke to him during the lunch break after English class, he had been holding his breath. For a month, he couldn’t breathe because Lydia wasn’t around him anymore._

_“And she’s right,” Stiles uttered, noticing her glistening eyes. “Quite literally, though, I couldn’t breathe once and then you..”_

_Lydia laughed, putting a hand in the air to stop him. That simple action, however, brought as much joy to him as he’d experienced in what felt like a lifetime._

_“I’m not talking about this with you, Stiles.” Lydia couldn’t stop grinning now. “Now, fix the car so that we can get the hell out of here.”_

* * *

Stiles returned to reality, noticing the church approaching in the distance. He stared into the mirror at Lydia, who was smiling at something Kira had told her. Smiling so casually, like it was suddenly the easiest thing to do.

And when Lydia spotted his gaze on her that Stiles so hopelessly hoped read _‘I still love you’_ , her smile spread wider.

**Author's Note:**

> hope you enjoyed this story from stiles' point of view and that you liked the changes!
> 
> speaking of change, though, i moved to the uk last week! this one shot was entirely written in my uni accommodation's living room with a view to the ocean across the street from me :') i am LOVING wales so far and can't wait to start uni in a week.
> 
> @piinofs on twitter


End file.
